


A Great Beginning

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: smutty_claus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Marauders' Era, Social Commentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-04
Updated: 2007-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:18:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the promises we make to the past must be put aside. Sometimes that isn't our choice to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Great Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Written for florahart in Smutty Claus 2006. Flora wanted hurt/comfort, the complications of relationships, external resistance, desperation, conversation, and a hopeful ending, so consider yourself warned if any of that bothers you. The epigraph is [_Credo_](http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/18998) by Matthew Rohrer.

_I believe there is something else_

_entirely going on but no single_  
_person can ever know it,_  
_so we fall in love._

_It could also be true that what we use_  
_everyday to open cans was something_  
_much nobler, that we'll never recognize._

_I believe the woman sleeping beside me_  
_doesn't care about what's going on_  
_outside, and her body is warm_  
_with trust_  
_which is a great beginning._

  


"Right, then. Scrimgeour, you'll manage relations with the Wizengamot administrators - take Shacklebolt with you. Longbottom, you'll work with Minerva and Albus to review the political leanings of all Hogwarts students - not that we want the kiddies involved, but it's best to know what they're hearing from home." Alastor Moody sorted through the small parchment cards in front of him, and sighed. "I'll get with Fletcher and see if he's learnt anything useful over the past few weeks."

"Fletcher's a liability, Alastor." Rufus Scrimgeour neatened his own notes. "Far more interested in his own issues than those of the greater community."

"He has connections," Kingsley Shacklebolt said mildly. "Places we can't go legally. That's why Albus created the Order, Rufus, so that we weren't the only resource for our side."

"You think I don't know that, Shacklebolt?" Scrimgeour frowned. "You're a damned fine Auror, young as you might be, but you've not got much respect for the way things already are."

As Kingsley tensed and shifted forward in his seat, Frank Longbottom put his hand on Kingsley's forearm. Moody coughed and pushed his chair back. "Enough. You'll work together, both of you, and you'll do it without scrapping. The Order's not up for discussion, Rufus, and Kingsley, you're not to assume that your membership gives you a way around Ministry seniority." He stood and gathered his things. In the doorway, he turned back and addressed the room. "Weekly reports on my desk by six tomorrow morning. Anyone who's late will spend next week doing surveillance on Dung." Moody's leaving broke the silence, and the remaining Aurors began to chat as they picked up their mugs and notes.

"Molly, free for a cuppa? I've got a note for you from Alice."

"Sorry, Frank," Molly Weasley said. "I've got to chase Alastor - he didn't give me an assignment." She grabbed her quill and went quickly down the hall, stopping in the entrance to Moody's office. "Got a moment?"

"Molly, my dear." Moody had his feet up on his desk, and the _Prophet_ open in his lap. "What can I do for you?"

She stepped into the room. "You forgot to give me an assignment at the meeting."

Moody looked puzzled. "You're already on something."

"You've had me filing everyone else's weeklies for ages, and I'm caught up." Her face mirrored his puzzlement. "I told you that last week."

"Ah. Right." Moody swung his feet down and put the newspaper aside. With a brief twitch of his wand, the office door closed quietly. "Sit down, Molly."

Molly moved around the chair and perched on its edge. "What is it? Something undercover? I've done it before, you know. I'd rather like that."

"No," Moody said. He looked at her for a minute, then sighed heavily. "I was delighted when you went through training, Molly. Didn't think you'd have the stomach for it, losing Gideon and Fabian like that, but damned glad to have you here nonetheless."

"I love being an Auror." Molly's knuckles whitened as she gripped her notepad tightly. "I joined DMLE _because_ of my brothers. I belong here. But what does this have to do with anything?"

Moody got up and started to pace behind his chair, tracking the worn stripe on the carpet. "You're damned good at your job. Good at what we need you for, Molly, undercover and surveillance and worming your way into questionable situations with that bright smile and the Prewett name." He stopped and turned to her. "Things change, or so I've been told."

Molly stared at him. After a moment, she spoke slowly. "You're not doing this to me, Alastor."

He watched her silently.

"You're not doing to me what you did to Alice." Molly's cheeks flushed. "I'm not _pregnant_ , Alastor. I can do my job. You _need_ me - you've got no other women in DMLE who can go undercover officially! Emmeline's not an Auror, and Minerva's not only not an Auror but not exactly unknown, and...." She trailed off. "It isn't fair."

"It's not my doing, girl." Moody came around to sit on the edge of his desk facing her. "Merlin knows I've fought for you. Fought for Alice, too, but she didn't help by turning up expecting two months after she married Frank."

"She lost that baby," Molly said quietly. "Apparently it's just as dangerous to be pregnant at home as it is to be on the job. We're waiting. Until after. Arthur and I agreed."

"I know." His voice was gentler than she'd realized he could manage, and held just a hint of amusement. "Means you're a better witch than anyone suspects, if you can pull that off with Weasleys in the equation."

Her mouth twisted, but she didn't laugh. Instead, she looked up at him, eyes glittering. "You're letting me go?"

Moody grimaced. "Not exactly. Alice got the powers that be to change that much. Redundancy's not policy any more, for marriage or pregnancy, but it seems to be just a change on parchment." He muttered a low curse without a target. They both waited until it finished rattling around the room, expiring with a quiet pop in the corner. "I'm to offer you reassignment."

"Reassignment." She watched him steadily. "DMLE still?"

"Technically." He turned and rooted through the papers on his desk, extracting an intra-office memo and handing it to her.

Molly scanned it quickly, then let her hand fall as she stared at nothing in particular. "Magical Equipment Control? Office administration? Three years of training, coming second only to Kingsley in combat skills, a commendation from the bloody Minister himself, and I'm to write press releases about adulterated Self-Correcting Ink." She gave up trying to control her tears, though she managed to keep from sobbing. "All because I married Arthur properly, even if it _was_ an elopement. Could I have kept my job if we'd just taken up housekeeping?"

"I know it isn't fair, Molly." Moody leaned forward to smooth her hair back. "It's shortsighted for the cause, and wrong for you, and it hurts like bleeding hell to tell you this. But there's nothing to be done, girl. If you make a fuss, they've directed me to write you up for insubordination."

Molly leaned into his hand, almost imperceptibly, then stood. "May I leave for the day?"

He nodded. "Take all the time you need. I'll assign you to a research project - no use cutting off the salary until you know what you're going to do."

"Thank you," she said quietly, and offered her hand. "I don't blame you, Alastor. You're doing what you're told. Ministry seniority, as you said to Kingsley in the meeting." She turned and walked out, the effort of keeping her head high visible in the strained muscles of her back.

::

Nearly three hours later, Molly climbed the four flights of stairs to the top-floor flat she and Arthur shared. She'd gone for a long walk in the rain, down along the river and past the playgrounds where she and her brothers had played as children. She stripped out of her clothes and pulled on Arthur's ancient flannel bathrobe - the same one he'd had at Hogwarts, which she found both annoying and inexplicably soothing. With soap, her bath sponge, and two clean towels in hand, she let herself out of the flat and went two doors down the hall to their shared bath. In the afternoon, it was usually safe to take a long soak.

The hot water poured from the tap into the stained porcelain tub. Molly sat on the edge, trailing her fingers in the water and adding a bit of cold from time to time. When the water was nearly to the overflow, she shut off the taps and let Arthur's bathrobe fall to the floor, warded the door shut, and stepped in. Her feet prickled with the heat, but she lowered herself carefully until only her head was above water, her knees making small round islands further down the tub.

Lying in the water, Molly chased some of the memories she'd had while walking through London: Gideon reading to her from his Magical Creatures text, Fabian teaching her to balance on his broom, her mother in near-distress during a tea party. She laughed softly at the memory. The twins had been charged with minding her until it was time for them all to come be polite to the other ladies. Although dressed in their best party robes, Gideon had decided they needed a tea party of their own, next to the fishpond in the garden. When they'd reluctantly answered their summons, streaked with mud and Molly's hair-bows lost, their mother had almost fainted over the silver tea service. Luckily for the three young Prewetts, Cedrella Weasley was immensely amused and demanded to be taken to the garden party, whispering to Molly that she far preferred mud pies to witches' chatter. 

As she thought fondly of Arthur's mother, Molly heard steps on the staircase. Up one flight, then two, then three. She hoped that it was Octavius Pepper or one of the Edgecombe girls, but sighed as the feet took only the four steps between staircase and her own front door. She sank deeper in the water as she listened to Arthur unward the flat. The door closed behind him and, just as she hoped he'd come home for a quick errand, opened again. Footsteps down the hall soon stopped in front of the bathroom door.

"Molly?"

She considered ducking all the way under the water, reluctant to admit she was home, afraid of the conversation to come.

"Molly," Arthur said through the door, "are you quite all right?"

She sighed. "I'm in the bath, dear. You're home early."

"It's nearly half-six," he said mildly. "May I come in?"

"I can't reach my wand."

Arthur laughed softly, though he didn't leave. "I'm capable of breaking a ward-lock, love. May I come in?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "Might as well." She listened as Arthur muttered a few soft words and the latch slid free. As he entered the room, she slid all the way down under the water, looking up to see him lean over the tub, wavy and shimmering. She blew a stream of bubbles and slowly broke the surface. "Hullo."

Arthur sat on the edge of the tub and handed her a dry facecloth. "Hullo yourself. I looked for you at work, to see if you'd like to walk home with me, but Alastor said you'd left at one. Are you feeling poorly?"

She sat up and pushed the wet hair out of her eyes with the facecloth, then dropped it into the water and began to toy with it. "I'm fine. I went for a walk."

"It's pouring out," Arthur said. "I saw your clothes in the bedroom, damp as anything." He sat quietly, watching her. "How long have you been in the bath?"

"I don't know," she said. "I put a warming spell on the water." A tiny smile tugged at her mouth. "Good thing none of the Edgecombes are home."

Arthur chuckled. "Yes. It would be a mutiny." He leaned forward and lifted her hand from the water, inspecting her fingers. "You've gone pruney, Mollywobbles. Come back down the hall?"

Slowly, she raised her eyes to his. "I don't think I ever want to leave the tub. No bother. No fuss."

He tugged her hand. "Come home, Molly. You don't have to talk about anything if you don't want, but come be with me." He smiled at her, eyes a bit sad. "I'd like the company."

"All right," she said after a bit, and hoisted herself upright. Arthur handed her a towel for her hair, and used the other to rub her dry. As she stepped out onto the tile, he helped her into his robe and plucked the stopper from the drain. Together, they walked down the hall and into their flat.

"Sit," he said. "I'll make tea for us." He went to the tiny kitchenette and rummaged through the cupboards for the tea. Molly curled up on the sofa and watched him, taking comfort in his familiar square shoulders and rumpled hair.

"I was thinking about your mum," she said. "About the tea party and the mud pies, and how kind she's always been to me."

"She's tremendously fond of you," Arthur said, bringing her a cup and joining her on the sofa. "Always has been. She thought of you as a daughter even before I fell in love with you." He chuckled and pulled Molly close, kissing her damp hair. "Weasleys have to take daughters where they find them, you know."

Molly put her tea down and leaned against him. His shirt had an odd smudge on the pocket and he smelled of something Muggle. "How was your day?"

"Long," he said. "Tedious and frustrating and filled with meetings. I thought of you during most of them, of course." He nuzzled her temple. "Bilius brought me some new plugs, which was rather nice of him, given that he's one of those who think I'm a bit too fond of Muggles. Yours?" His voice was gentle and quiet. "I saw Frank at the tea trolley."

Molly nestled into his arms, resting her cheek on the small patch of russet curls visible at the throat of his shirt. "I forgot. He had a letter for me, from Alice. I didn't go back for it."

Arthur stroked her hair. "I've got it in my robe pocket. D'you want to talk about it, love?"

She shook her head, trying - and failing - to stifle the tears now running down her cheeks and making a damp patch on his shirt. "Don't want to think about it." She clung to him, then let out a single heaving sob. "I can't be an Auror any more, Arthur. Alastor's reassigned me."

"Reassigned? Still for him, of course." Arthur pulled back and tipped her chin up so he could look at her. "Yes? Still working for Alastor?"

"No." Molly knew she was getting blotchy but was past being able to stop. "Magical Equipment." She buried her face in Arthur's chest again, sobbing openly as he stroked her back. "I'm sorry, Arthur, so sorry...."

After a long while, when her shaking subsided, Arthur kissed her hair. "What are you sorry for, Molly? That you married me? That we decided to chance living together after we eloped, hoping that they'd have learned their lesson after Alice and Frank? That you've got to give up your dream because of me?"

She looked up and stared at him. "No! Never sorry I married you, Arthur, never." Her face crumpled again. "Sorry that I failed, failed you, failed Gideon and Fabian...."

"Love. _Love._ " Arthur cradled her cheek in his hand. She noticed that his glasses were smudged, but his eyes were warm and brown behind the lenses. "You failed nobody. The twins are gone, Molly, and you've done more than anyone to keep their memories alive, but they'd never have wanted you to put off your own life to keep theirs going." He kissed her gently. "I'm not sorry I married you either, you know. We'll make do, love."

She returned his kiss, hesitant at first and then more deeply, letting his strength flow through her. "Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"D'you want supper?"

"No." He stood suddenly, catching her up in his arms and moving swiftly toward their bedroom. "I want my wife." After edging through the door, trying not to bang her feet against the jamb, he set her down on the bed and pushed her shoulders back so she lay across the quilt, her hair loose around her face. Molly watched quietly as Arthur stripped out of his clothes, then sat on the edge of the bed to remove his socks carefully. He turned to her, smiling. "You knitted them for me. Can't treat them badly."

She reached for him, pulling him down to lie next to her and burying her face in his chest again. The Muggle smell was gone, and once again she smelled the familiar warm scent that was Arthur, tea and warm blankets and safety all threaded together with faint spice. She kissed his chest, then made a line of soft kisses up his throat and onto his chin. Arthur growled softly and tipped his head to catch her lips with his, kissing her deeply as she stroked his back. "I love you, Molly Prewett," he whispered. "Have done since the day you first stepped through the portrait. But if it's not time for this - for us...." He was silent, then kissed her again. "We can break the bonds if you need."

" _No_!" The fear in Molly's voice surprised even her. "We're bound and married, Arthur, and I don't want it any other way. Don't you _ever_ think I'd choose being an Auror over being your wife." She struggled up onto her elbows as she kissed him desperately, then touched his cheek as she whispered. "Nor that I'd choose promises made to my brothers over the vows I made to you."

Arthur's expression, normally cheerful and open, darkened enough to worry Molly until he quickly moved to straddle her hips. As he undid the knot in the bathrobe sash, he watched her face with a heated gaze. "My love?" Unlike his eyes, his voice was shaded with hesitancy.

"Yours," she said firmly, and smiled as he pulled the robe's lapels apart. "Always."

Arthur groaned and leaned to kiss her, his roughened hand sliding along her stomach and up to capture a breast in his palm. She felt him hard against her leg as his tongue wrapped around hers. Molly cradled his head with one hand, letting the other wander across his back and down to the swell of his arse. He rocked against her gently. "I don't want you to have regrets, Mollywobbles."

She pulled her hands away for a moment so she could shrug out of the robe. As she stretched, Arthur bent his head to kiss her nipple, sucking it gently between his lips and then scraping his teeth lightly across the ruched skin. Molly gasped, holding his head in place. "Don't you ever, Arthur, ever think I regret anything, though you'll regret it if you stop doing that." Arthur laughed softly and began to alternate between her breasts, kissing and nipping until Molly began to writhe under him, keeping time with the shallow movements of his hips. He slid down a bit, nuzzling across her stomach and moving lower until he was kneeling between her thighs and looking up across the creamy stretch of skin to catch her gaze. When she opened her eyes, he smiled and bent his head, kissing the red curls on her mound and then dragging his tongue in one long, slow lick along the edges of her labia. As she gasped again, he carefully pulled her open with his fingers, leaning down to lick her slowly once more. He looked up again, eyes crinkled with amusement and desire. "What do you want, love?"

"You," she whispered. "Come here, please?"

Arthur touched her once more, slipping his fingertips into her and then circling her clitoris a few times as he moved up into her arms. He touched his fingers to her lips, kissing her forehead. "Show me, Molly. _Please_."

With a shaded smile, Molly sucked his fingers between her lips, twining her fingers into his, tasting herself layered atop his own skin's flavor. Arthur struggled to keep his eyes open, watching her tongue sliding around each fingertip until she reached her newly-slick hand down to wrap around his cock. He groaned as she stroked him slowly, shifting his hips to give her more room. She slid her thumb across his tip, glossing it with his own wetness, and placed him carefully at her entrance. "I'm yours," she whispered, and tipped her hips decisively so that he slid into her in one slow long motion.

Arthur made an odd strangled noise somewhere between a whine and a moan. He bent to kiss her, tongue and lips moving possessively as he started to thrust. Molly's breath quickened and she lifted one leg to wrap around his waist, moving with him to take him as deeply as she could with each push. He mumbled as he rocked into her, words like "love" and "promise" clear enough to hear, until she raked her fingernails down his back and slid her hand between them. "Yes," he whispered, "touch yourself for me, let me feel you." She smiled and kissed him as she got her fingers in place, rubbing herself as she watched his face twist and redden.

Between her own touch and Arthur moving inside her, Molly soon felt the familiar tightness in her stomach. Her kisses grew looser and more random, pressed across his chest and shoulders wherever she could reach. When she managed to find a nipple and take it in her lips, he gasped and pounded harder, droplets of sweat soaking his hair. "Close, love," he panted, "want you to come for me, _please_ , Molly, please...." She nodded and kissed him wetly, slipping her fingers a millimeter to the side and pushing herself over the edge, clenching around him as she cried out. Arthur thrust deeply a few times more, then went still. She could feel him pulsing inside her before he dropped down onto her chest, his damp forehead between her breasts. She leaned down and kissed the top of his head, then tugged him up to lie next to her, their limbs tangled.

After a long while, Arthur hummed happily, eyes still closed and head pillowed on her breasts. "You're bloody amazing, Molly. After all these years, it just gets better." He opened one eye and peeked at her. "D'you want me to make a fuss with Moody? I could do."

"No," she said quietly. "I'll come up with a plan. Alastor's hands are tied anyway. Perhaps I'll speak to Albus - maybe I could do something for the Order, like Elphias or Emmeline, without still being employed."

He nodded and smiled hesitantly. "Or we could - I know we agreed to wait until after the troubles were over, but -"

"Can we afford it with me not working?" Molly bit her lip, then shrugged. "I'm not sure it'd happen right away anyway. Poppy says that the potion takes a long while to leave the system, and Mum says Prewett women don't find it that easy to fall pregnant." She touched Arthur's cheek. "I hope it happens for us."

"So do I," Arthur said quietly. He tugged the quilt up over them and pulled her close. "And if not, we'll just play host to all our friends' children." He kissed the tip of her nose. "It will all work out, Molly. You'll see."

"I know." Molly's voice softened as she drifted on the edge of sleep, warm and safe, trusting his words.


End file.
